Darker Than Night
by Sakin
Summary: Betrayal of the worst kind... Kai faces his grandfather, Voltaire, after the W-Championships in Russia, and as they fight, each one's fury matches the other - only one of them comes out of it whole. My third BB-fic on FF.net, this one is a bit dark.
1. Default Chapter

Darker Than Night 

Another BB Fic

Brought to you by Sakin-chan

****

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

****

A/N: Hi there! Due to a total lack of inspiration for any of my other stories, I have started this one. Hopefully this story won't peter out somewhere along the middle of the plot. This one has nothing to do with any of my other stories, and there is no romancey, gooey lovey-dovey stuff anywhere in sight.

Prepare for some good old, hardcore, teenage angst!

Enjoy!

Prologue – Betrayal 

"This time you have gone too far. Going with those rats you call friends, defying me – ME! – your own grandfather and sabotaging my life's work…"

The man slowly stepped towards him, exuding cold hatred and anger. With each step he took, he forced the boy further and further back, cornering him. The boy stared back at him, matching the older man's fury step for step.

"Oh, I should have just left you to die with your worthless bitch of a mother and that good-for-nothing piece of scum you called 'Dad'… I bring you to my abbey, give you everything a boy could want, raising you in a disciplined manner and THIS is how you repay me?!"

"You wouldn't know how to raise a child if your life depended on it!" the boy shot back, feeling his fury rising dangerously high;

"YOU ONLY TREATED ME AS A PIECE OF GARBAGE, YOU LIAR, SOMETHING TO BE USED AND THROWN AWAY! AND DON'T CALL MY MOTHER A BITCH, VOLTAIRE, SHE WAS A BETTER HUMAN THAN YOU COULD EVER HAVE BEEN IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!"

The blue-haired boy who stood cornered against the window, his crimson eyes blazing with hate, was Kai Hiwatari.

His black, sleeve-less shirt was covered in cuts and stained with blood, and his blue baggy trousers was filled with holes, showing the various bleeding cuts on his legs. Kai's customary white scarf, the one he tied around his neck, was gone, nowhere to be seen.

The grey-haired, brown-eyed old man who was slowly advancing on Kai, his face as icy as the coldest nights of Siberia, the man who wore the billowing dark-red cape and who knew no mercy was Kai's grandfather: Voltaire, owner of the BIOVOLT Corporation.

Voltaire was wanted by the police in several nations, charged with different crimes. A few of them included murder.

Kai had come back to his mansion in Tokyo after the end of the World Championship in Moscow, believing that Voltaire was now safely in prison, and relieved that he had gotten away with his defiance.

He shouldn't have underestimated his grandfather, should have known it wouldn't be as easy as that.

As he walked up the stairs to his room, feeling tired and sleepy, as he threw open the door and fell into his bed, shoes and all, he forgot all about Voltaire and was instantly lost in a deep slumber, something that didn't happen to him very often.

It was only as pain burnt the skin on his back, that he was jolted out of his sleep, his heart racing madly, to see Voltaire standing over him and brandishing a length of razor-sharp barbed wire.

After that, it had been a desperate, painful struggle, all the way down the stairs and then up to the third floor of their mansion.

Kai had no doubt that Voltaire would kill him.

The man was clearly insane.

He looked around, trying to move away from the windows. He didn't want to fall down three storeys onto cold, hard asphalt and break all of his bones.

Voltaire suddenly lunged for him, and Kai ducked out of his way, tripping him with his left leg. Voltaire stumbled forwards, his own momentum carrying him dangerously close to the window, and Kai watched with wide eyes as his grandfather fell forward in slow motion, the glass window breaking and shattering into a million pieces.

Voltaire had a look of blank surprise on his face as he realised that he was going to die. He grabbed the window sill in desperation, cutting his fingers on the sharp glass and crying out in pain.

Suddenly, a hand stretched out towards him, and Voltaire clung to his grandson, an almost grateful expression plastered across his face. "Pull me up, boy!" he barked, pale with relief, scrabbling against the smooth wall of his fortress.

Kai had no idea why the hell he was saving the fat bastard, but saving him he was.

(It would be so easy to let go,) he thought, (So easy to accidentally lose my grip on him and let him fall and crack his skull like an egg on the hard asphalt, like the cold bastard so truly deserved.)

But Kai ignored his evil thoughts, knowing he'd never kill anybody in cold blood. He pulled his grandfather up, pulling with all his strength, slowly letting him climb through the window even though each muscle in his body screamed in blinding pain.

Blinding pain caused by Voltaire himself.

Kai was almost spent; he gave one last pull, and suddenly Voltaire was through the window and on terra firma again, gasping like a landed fish. Kai gave him a contemptuous glance, stepping over his grandfather's body, and looked out through the window.

There was glass all over the lawn. What a mess.

"Well done, boy. You made the right choice," Kai heard his voice rasping behind him, and shrugged. He could feel the twin-beams of hatred radiating through Voltaire's eyes and burning into his back, and once again asked himself why the hell he had saved him.

A suspicious feeling suddenly crept up his mind: why was Voltaire so quiet?

He turned, and gasped, spotting Voltaire rushing at him; he felt two powerful hands shoving him hard; Kai didn't even cry out; he watched as Voltaire's smirking face flew out of his range of sight.

He'd betrayed him!

Kai was thrown out of the window this time, thrown so hard that he sailed a few metres through the air almost gracefully before his momentum and gravity pulled him down to earth.

The world became a rushing, mad blur.

The earth seemed to fly up at him, and Kai stared, wide-eyed, as it got closer and closer.

Everything was suddenly so bright, so very detailed, that he could see every blade of grass and every little stone in the wall.

It was all so very beautiful.

Then he felt a flare of pain, and his bones jarred as his body absorbed the shock of the impact.

(I'll miss practice with those losers tomorrow,) was his last thought before Kai fell into a deep, silent dark.

The dark that was deeper than any night.


	2. His Name

Darker Than Night 

Another BB Fic

Brought to you by Sakin-chan

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

A/N: And the story continues…

Chapter 1 – His Name

"Scalpels!"

"Here, doc."

"He's going into arrest, quick, give me 640!"

"640 watts, coming up!"

Beep!

"CLEAR!"

"Again!"

Beep!!

"CLEAR!!!"

"…Doctor, he's stabilized. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Nurse…?"

"Chloe, sir. Nurse Chloe."

"Ah, you're our transfer from New York! Welcome aboard, nurse."

"Thank you, Doctor Kasumi."

The young woman with the wide black eyes in the green surgery gear looked down at the boy lying on the cot, and smoothed his blue hair away from his eyes. His face was cut and scarred, and his cheeks were bloody and raw, but Chloe could tell he was handsome.

"Poor boy. What could have done this to him?"

The doctor pulled off his mask; those things were horrible to wear. Kasumi was a veteran surgeon, and had seen far too many deaths in his forty years. His once black hair was now almost completely gray, and his wife pointed out to him that he was getting premature wrinkles. That night, he'd slept on the couch. Again. He ran an experienced eye over the boy's injuries, and sighed.

"Well, he's damaged his spinal cord, particularly the vertebrae around the lower left ribcage, and there are signs of trauma to his kidneys and lungs. Both of his lower legs are broken, which increases the chance of him being wheelchaired for life. He's lucky – only a mild concussion, no signs of brain-damage whatsoever. It's just his spine I'm worried about."

Chloe smoothed back her short brown hair, and frowned. "Looks like he was hit by something hard, or-"

"-Fell off a high place. Potential suicide?"

She shook her head. "Somehow, it doesn't seem like it."

Kasumi gazed at her, wondering if Nurse Chloe would last for the year she had her nurse-training here. She was too green around the gills, a complete newbie, no matter how good her scientific essays were, or how high her marks on the tests.

He left her to it, deciding to give her the responsibility of treating his patient for the next few weeks and alerting him if there was any trouble. Before he left, he looked back at the 26-year old nurse, and said:

"Chloe, I'll give a piece of advice. Don't get too attached to your charges. They're your patients, ill people who need your help. Nothing more, nothing less. While you work here, it's possible that some of them may die. And none of us want to lose someone we care about." He paused, fiddling with his apron.

"Let's just say… doctors have lost their jobs grieving for patients they cared about who died. Don't get yourself into a similar position."

With that, he walked away, leaving Chloe to escort her patient to his room in the Intensive Care Unit of Minaba Memorial Hospital, Tokyo.

Chloe was monitoring the mystery patient's heartbeat. It was pretty steady, though occasionally it dropped, making her panic for a few seconds, then it went back up to normal.

Nobody had said anything about who he was, or where he'd come from, or even his name; the paramedics said that some middle-aged foreign lady spotted him lying on the ground and ran screaming for help. "She wouldn't give her own name, never mind the kids," they had told Dr. Kasumi.

Chloe got up, and adjusted the IV drip. They were only giving him glucose water, feeding it into his bloodstream until he woke up and told them exactly where it hurt. Surgery was more than possible, the doctor had assured her, unless he woke up soon. She sincerely hoped he would.

He looked about 17 years old, much too young to be attempting suicide.

Chloe left the room to fetch herself a cup of coffee, passing Reynolds, her fellow transfer-nurse and also known as Rain, because he got these sudden bouts of depression, taking anyone nearby with him into the depths of self-condemnation. He rained on you, soaking you with misery.

Right now, however, he was pretty cheerful, excited about coming to Japan, and working in a genuine Japanese Hospital. She sat in the dingy staff-room, sharing a coffee with him as he babbled non-stop about some hot nurse he saw working in the Casualty Unit.

"Rain?" Chloe said after a while, and he stopped mid-sentence.

"Yeah, Chloe?"

"Just shut up."

And she went back to her patient, wondering why she'd snapped at him like that. But when she got to the ICU, she immediately forgot all about it.

Her patient was waking up.

Before he even opened his eyes, he was hit by a solid wall of pain. He gasped; even his nails hurt!

He slowly opened one eye, then the other, and looked around. The place he was in was white, and a regular beeping noise filled his ears. He stared harder, and saw that he was lying in a white bed, with a hospital bracelet on his left arm and a needle in his right. He tried to move, wondering how he came to the hospital, and what had happened to make him hurt so much all over.

Gradually, two faces appeared in front of him, one male and the other female. The woman looked young, and the man looked older, with graying hair. The man reminded him of someone he knew, and the boy felt a brief flare of panic, before the woman spoke to him. He felt a warm hand gently touch his shoulder, and his fear subsided.

"Can you speak? What's your name?" she said gently, her green eyes shining at him.

He tried to say something, but his mouth was dry. He swallowed, and moved his aching jaw, and croaked: "Wa… ter…"

The man brought a glass of cool water, and the woman helped him up, holding the glass to his lips. "Easy, now…"

She laid him back onto the pillow, and looked at the man, who frowned at the boy. "What's your name, son?" he said, and the boy felt a little uncomfortable. The man reminded him so much of… ugh, his head hut too much to remember. He looked at the woman, and she smiled at him, and nodded.

The boy cleared his throat.

"My name… is…" he frowned, his head aching insanely.

"…Kai."


End file.
